


Pen and Quill

by In_Dreams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Sexual Content, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2020-10-29 23:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20804498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dreams/pseuds/In_Dreams
Summary: A collection of Dramione drabbles, some prompted and some not, covering a range of themes.





	1. Three Things

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hi, and welcome to Pen and Quill. A collection of short Dramione drabbles, some prompted and some not. Rated M, because who knows what will happen in here? This has been shared on FFN for a while now, and I'm only just getting to cross-posting for some reason.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.
> 
> The prompt for this piece comes from the lovely HeartOfAspen: What are the three things he could never tell her?

**Three Things**

There were three things Draco Malfoy could never tell Hermione Granger.

Things he would never tell anyone with any sort of intentionality – and Draco would have denied them if anyone ever thought to ask. Most days, he wouldn't even admit them to himself.

But nevertheless, when he was honest with himself – they contained more truth than anything else he knew.

The first thing was that Draco Malfoy thought Hermione Granger was beautiful. From her soft frame to the warmth of the chocolate in her gaze; from her free and unreserved smile to the wild and uncontrollable curls she wore.

He'd thought she was pretty – but then after the Yule Ball, during their fourth year, Draco had made peace with the fact that he was attracted to her and it had morphed into something else altogether.

He had started noticing the little things, like the way her lips curved with a secret when she watched her friends. Like the small furrow that came to her brow when she was focused, or how her eyes widened in joy when treacle tart was served for pudding in the Great Hall.

Draco liked the way she wore her uniform skirt, and how her posture was always a little slumped on one side from the weight of the books she carried in her bag. He would have laughed at the irony, given he had been raised with the most upright of posture.

She was beautiful even now, splayed on the floor of the drawing room of his family home. Her frame was thinner than he remembered, her cheeks hollow with deep bruises beneath her eyes. Granger's hair was dull and lank, her curls matted beyond help and – Draco cringed – mixing in the growing puddle of her own blood.

There was a tremble to his hand; a tension to his shoulders and a tightness about his gaze as he watched his lunatic of an aunt torture the poor girl.

A breath caught in Draco's gaze as he met the passive eyes of his mother's across the room. Narcissa blinked, once, and Draco steadied his stance.

The second thing was that Draco had always admired the strength of her character. Her wit and wisdom, her compassion, her bloody courage – the way she had come into a world with which she was entirely unfamiliar and had forged a path of her own.

She was unforgiving, unrepentant and unwavering in her convictions.

She was tenacious, in a world of people all too willing to bow down and change themselves to suit others. Granger stood as a bright light, in the darkness that had taken over Draco's world.

There was a spark to her that couldn't be dulled or defeated, and Draco had appreciated her for it, even as he scowled at her in classes. She was a Gryffindor and a Muggle-born and self-righteous to a fault – but Draco couldn't hate her for it, not anymore. Not despite the beliefs with which he had grown up.

Not in the face of his own slow moral demise.

Even now, Granger remained stoic and assertive in her strength and courage. She refused Bellatrix, knowing it would be her pain, _her torture_, and she gritted her teeth through the pain, even as tears broke, casting unwilling tracks down her grimy cheeks.

Draco clenched his jaw, his eyes fixed on her as she screamed and panted and gasped, weary and worn, a sheen of sweat breaking across her temples and mingling with dirt and blood.

She was so _fucking_ beautiful.

But she wouldn't break, and Draco was so damn proud of her.

And the third thing…

Well, the third thing was a different animal altogether.

The third thing was at once more abstract and more concrete than anything else Draco had ever known to be true. But true it was, and Draco had come to accept it in time.

It was the third thing he could never tell Hermione Granger, that set the thrum of magic in his veins; the stinging of his eyes; the firm grip as he slipped his wand into his hand.

Draco's heart pounded as he tensed, his entire body coiling like a spring, ready to move.

He saw it in his mother's gaze, as her lips pursed with a subtle shake of her head. But she could see it and she knew it –

Granger released an agonized scream as his aunt's blade tore through her skin, over and again, unrelenting, the pool of blood beneath her growing and seeping into the cracks between the floorboards.

That third and final thing was the pounding of his veins, the roar of blood in his ears, the red in his vision as he took a step forward, his hand steady as he raised his wand.

Moisture threatened the corners of his eyes as Granger cast a wild, pained glance around the room and met his gaze. She blinked, her lips parting, at whatever she found in his eyes and still Draco advanced.

It was Bellatrix's cruel laugh that was the final straw – the way she could laugh at causing such an exquisite creature such tremendous pain – and Draco wasn't even aware of the spell that flew from his wand and threw Bellatrix across the room with a crash.

"Go," Narcissa Malfoy whispered, her eyes wide, as Draco darted forward.

A great commotion occurred behind him, and all Draco knew was the feel of Granger's hand in his as he grabbed hold of her and spun into Apparition – and she was _with him_ –

And she gasped a great sob when they landed; she was a mess and beautiful and Draco cast her a sidelong glance. There was a tremble to her hands as she held herself, her thin fingers clutching her sleeves.

"Malfoy –" she choked, her eyes meeting his.

Draco released a harsh breath as he gazed out from the mountaintop where they had landed.

He couldn't have let her die – she had to understand that –

There was a third thing Draco Malfoy could never tell Hermione Granger, and it raced through his heart and his life force with all the potency he could imagine as he stared at her incredulous, disbelieving, chocolate eyes.

But if she was alive… maybe one day he could show her.


	2. Tinsel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This was a prompted drabble from the Dramione Fanfiction Forum's tree trimming drabble comp. The prompts were as follows: Tinsel; Fairy Lights; Mistletoe; and the phrase, "You're not putting that there, are you?", in no more than 1000 words. Subsequently, this short bit of festive, unedited nonsense. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

Hermione sat upon the sofa, her feet tucked beneath her as she sipped a cup of hot cocoa. Her entertainment for the evening, it seemed, was before her.

It was her second Christmas with Draco and this year he had insisted he ought to learn how to trim the tree – the Muggle way. She had rolled her eyes at the time, but he insisted.

A smile tugged at her lips. She wondered if he was regretting his persistence now.

In the minutes it had taken her to brew a cup of cocoa, he had managed to wind up with a string of fairy lights tangled around his shoulders, across his chest, and one of his elbows was trapped against his body.

"You're not putting that _there_, are you?" she teased, taking a sip of her warm confection.

He released an exaggerated huff of annoyance, scowling. "If you continue to mock me, I will put this entire bag of tinsel in the air vents."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, her gaze fixed on him. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?" His lips twitched as he brandished the package of silver annoyance.

Snickering, she shook her head. "I offered to help, you'll recall – you were the one who wanted to do this on your own."

With a significant amount of huffing and grunting, Draco freed himself from the tangle of lights; he flung them from himself with excessive fanfare, stalking towards her. "I take it back. I'll respect your culture from afar, then." He threw himself down onto the sofa, helping himself to a sip of her cocoa.

His eyes slid to stare at her sidelong. "Unless you're keen to dress up in the tinsel and the fairy lights – and nothing else."

She snorted and reclaimed her mug. "And why would I do that?"

Draco offered his best puppy dog eyes. "Call it a Christmas gift."

"I'll tell you what," Hermione began, averting her gaze as she set the mug on the end table beside her. "_If_ you manage to finish trimming the tree without burning the flat down, I'll let you choose where to hang the mistletoe."

His eyes narrowed as he considered the proposition. "How much mistletoe are we talking about?"

"As much as you want." She blinked at him, giving him his own patented smirk.

Draco's fingers scratched at the stubble on his jaw; he wouldn't have been a Slytherin if he didn't consider every aspect of a deal and she waited as he thought it through. "Anywhere?"

"Anywhere at all," she breathed.

His gaze flickered down to land on her mouth, and then trailed the length of her body; she felt her skin heat up at the decadent perusal of his gaze. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "_Anywhere_."

"Merlin, Draco, yes," she laughed, shaking her head.

"I'm just being sure," he clipped, rising from the sofa. He turned back to point at her. "Magical mistletoe."

"That's fine," Hermione said with a nod, taking up her mug of cocoa again.

She thought she heard him mutter something like, "You're going to regret this," under his breath.

Hermione had never seen a Christmas tree trimmed so fast in her life.

"I see you're caught beneath some more mistletoe," Draco said as he sidled up alongside Hermione, his arms folded across his front, his lips twisted into a smug grin. "I suppose you need someone to… save you."

Hermione rolled her eyes, digging a facetious toe into the floor. "I guess I'll have to wait until a saviour comes by."

It had been three days since the flat had become a forest of mistletoe – Hermione could scarcely take a step before a sprig would materialize above her head. It had become increasingly difficult to get anything done around the house.

Not that she was complaining – the excessive amount of mistletoe had led them to some enjoyable and adventurous encounters. He never did anything halfway, that much was certain.

"Nonsense!" Draco exclaimed, his mouth tugging into a crooked flash of teeth.

She blinked up at him, her lips twitching. "Have you seen a saviour, then?"

"In fact, I have." He leered down at her, stepping into her personal space. He gesticulated up at the sprig above them in mocking astonishment. "It looks like I've been caught as well."

"Surprise," Hermione clipped. "Draco to the rescue – _again_."

He smirked. "You catch on fast."

In one swift move, Hermione was swept into his arms, his lips pressed against hers, and her fingers twisted in his pale hair as her eyes fluttered shut. As the sprig of mistletoe vanished, he hoisted her up so that her legs came around his waist and he hauled her towards the bedroom.

He muttered against her throat as he went, "You're going to have to do the thing with the tinsel again."


	3. Fandom-versary Drabbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: On the sixteenth anniversary of my FFN account, I shared sixteen 100-word drabbles, each prompted by, and written for, one of sixteen people who had made my time in the fandom memorable.
> 
> Alpha cred to Kyonomiko; mistakes are my own.

**For BoredRavenvlaw620 – Prompt: "Well that was unexpected."**

"Panic," Theo choked, nudging Draco's side. "Incoming."

Following Theo's gaze, Draco's eyes widened before they narrowed and he paced several steps forward; Granger and Potter approached from the other side of the shop.

Granger's eyes flashed, her hair wild as her gaze locked on Draco's. Theo stifled a snicker, taking a careful step to the side. "Here we go again."

She halted before Draco, arms folded and brow furrowed. But he stepped towards her, hands catching in her curls and lips finding hers, stealing her ire in a brisk moment.

Theo gave Potter a wide-eyed stare. "Well that was unexpected."

* * *

**For CourtingInsanity – Prompt: "You can't make me."**

"Malfoy, will you pass the lacewing flies?"

Granger was staring at him with a stern expression. Draco raised a brow and returned to his work. "I'm using them right now."

Her eyes narrowed and he fought to keep his face blank. "You don't need them all. _Please_, pass them."

He breathed, "You can't make me." His fingers coiled around the jar and tucked it behind his back.

Granger's lips twitched. "Sounds like a challenge, Malfoy." She stepped closer, hands grazing his sides to claim the jar. Draco smirked down at her, meeting the sparkle in her eyes.

"I still win."

* * *

**For HeartOfAspen – Prompt: Fireflies; Window; Dragon**

Her fingers fluttered across the window ledge as Hermione gazed through the pane; the night sky danced with the glow of hundreds of points of light. Her other hand wrapped around a green jade dragon; a gift, a memento of the one she missed most. It was difficult, being apart for days, weeks at a time.

But she could still hear Draco's words from their first night together, beneath a blanket of stars.

"_Watch for the fireflies when I'm gone; they shine in the darkness like my love for you."_

She clutched the dragon, her lips curved with a smile.

* * *

**For Hystaracal – Prompt: Ephemeral**

There was something soothing in the whisper of the wind through the leaves; a balm to his torn and tattered soul.

Long had Draco feared theirs would be a fleeting love, ephemeral in nature. His eyes stung, heart throbbing a ravaged cadence in his chest. Such was the cruel irony of life, that he may never again see the warmth of the chocolate in her gaze, the dance of her riotous curls. Feel her gentle touch.

With a tremble his knees gave out, dropping hard to the forest floor; he gasped as the first of the tears broke free. _Gone._

* * *

**For I Was BOTWP – Prompt: Aurora Borealis**

A chill swept through her to settle in her bones. Hermione grasped her arms with gloved fingers even as she smiled, hesitant to retreat to the warmth of the tent and miss any of the glowing spectacle before her.

The night sky, alight and dancing with the stunning aurora borealis.

Draco's hands found her arms as he came up behind her, his face dropping to rest on her shoulder. She smiled as his enticing warmth seeped into her. "Beautiful, right?"

"Beautiful," she echoed, sinking into his embrace.

"Only the best experiences," he murmured in her ear, "for my new bride."

* * *

**For Kyonomiko – Prompt: Ocean; Warmth; Seek**

Gentle ocean waves lapped at her feet, soothing in their intent. Hermione wished she was elsewhere. She longed for warmth of another sort – the arms of the man she loved.

It had been a simple time when she had come to know Draco Malfoy. A time before war and terror; before she'd needed to run. She had promised him her heart and had been honoured with his.

One day they would meet again – his grey eyes would sparkle and seek hers. His lips would pull into a devastating grin.

Fingers clutching her arms, she forced a trembling smile.

* * *

**For Labelladonex – Prompt: Pay attention**

His mouth was dry. Her wild curls were distracting beyond reason; a teasing hint of flesh and cleavage, the lace of her bra. A pair of dark-rimmed lenses were perched on her nose as she cocked a brow..

His eyes swept the bare skin of her legs, her words drifting into the background as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

"Mister Malfoy!" Granger snapped, staring down at him; her mouth twitched. "Would you pay attention!"

Draco trailed one hand up the creamy skin of her thigh, a smirk tugging at his lips as he growled, "Yes, Professor Granger."

* * *

**For LightOfEvolution – Prompt: Brooklyn 99 Meme**

"Let me just be the one to remind you that you're the reason we're in this situation."

Hermione scowled, fixing narrowed eyes on her partner. "Me! You're the one who insisted we leave the DMLE without backup! Mister I'm-So-Much-Smarter-Than-You!"

"Oh," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "This coming from Auror Better-Than-You-Because-I-Have-an-Order-of-Merlin."

Huffing, she folded her arms. "I do _not_ speak about it like that."

"Regardless," he mocked, eyeing his fingernails. "You're stuck in here. With me. Until someone realizes we're gone. Could take _hours_, really."

Hermione groaned, cursing the situation. "What will we do until then?"

Malfoy smirked. "We could always..."

* * *

**For Lovesbitca8 – Prompt: Nightmares**

She choked awake with a hoarse cry, skin quaking under a cold sweat. Eyes stared, unseeing, clinging to the old terrors. A gasp for breath as her heart raced, her blood a dull roar in her ears.

Long fingers coiled in her curls against the back of her head, possessive, jarring.

Because he knew. Merlin, he knew. It was him as often as it was her, startled awake by memories not quite left in the past.

"Shh," he breathed, a calming exhale against her skin. "You're alright."

Her eyes slid shut again, once more claimed by an uneasy, unsettled sleep.

* * *

**For Mhcalamas – Prompt: "Impress me, Granger."**

"Alright." He clapped his hands together, a smirk gracing his lips. "Impress me, Granger."

Her eyes landed on the Head Boy badge affixed to his chest before snapping to his face. She had spent enough time with Malfoy over the past year to see the strain around his eyes, belying his confident facade.

With a nod, Hermione gathered her focus and cast her Patronus – the otter shimmered for a moment before swirling away. "Okay, your turn. Remember, think of your happy memory."

His fingers trailed her spine. "So like that broom closet last week?"

She smiled. "That should do."

* * *

**For MrsRen – Prompt: "This is a game and we are the pawns."**

Draco could feel Hermione at his back as he crept forward. He caught her fingers in his hand, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

Almost at every turn, the mission had gone awry. And he feared for her, if she were to be caught here with him, a traitor. Cloaks and masks flashed at every corner.

He darted through a hidden corridor, feeling her presence behind him. He would take a curse for her, if necessary.

"Draco. I think we're trapped."

He shook his head, pacing forward into the darkness. "This is a game," he whispered, "and we are the pawns."

* * *

**For Mykesprit – Prompt: "You can't ride the pterodactyl."**

Tapping at the Time Turner with decided futility, Hermione frowned. This had never happened before in all their experiments in the Time Room… and judging by their surroundings, they'd gone back approximately sixty-five million years.

She could hear Draco's laugh behind her and sighed. _One_ of them needed to take the situation seriously. And since he was busy chasing after the _literal _dinosaurs all around them…

Hermione took a deep, steadying breath before turning around. She jumped, startled and wide-eyed.

"Draco!" she shouted, "you can't ride the pterodactyl!"

Despite everything else, she couldn't help but smile at his returning grin.

* * *

**For Niffizzle – Prompt: All-nighter**

"Hermione." Draco was smiling as he stared at her. "Are you planning on reading that _all_ night?"

Amusement curled her lips and she returned to her page. "Maybe. It's really quite good."

"I don't doubt that it is," he began, his tone leading as his arm landed around her shoulders. She could feel his warm breath on her neck. "I just thought you might want to do something _other_ than read."

Her skin tingled, even as she smirked. "There are things other than reading?"

"Oh yes," he said, voice low. His lips met the curve of her neck.

"I'm listening."

* * *

**For Ravenslight – Prompt: "Are you flirting or starting a fight?"**

"Are you flirting or starting a fight?"

Hermione froze, narrowed eyes swinging from the blond before her to Harry at her side. He quirked a brow.

Malfoy blinked, swallowing. "A fight, right Granger?"

"Of course." Hermione nodded, solemn. She gave a nervous chuckle, waving a flippant hand. "I was making fun of Malfoy's tie."

The blond adjusted said tie, jaw clenching. "Right. Never you mind about my tie."

She paced forward, rolling her eyes. "I mean, it's far too expensive for..." Distracted, her fingers lingered on the fine silk as Malfoy's grey stare met hers.

"Right," Harry choked, edging away.

* * *

**For Sarena – Prompt: Knight Bus**

Three days had passed since Draco had boarded the Knight Bus. He'd fled, ashamed; she could do so much better than him and he hadn't anywhere else to go. A layer of stubble coated his jawline; his eyes were bleary.

It was the best for Hermione if he wasn't in her way. She was a _hero_, he just a coward. He scoffed at the harsh irony even as his eyes pressed shut against the pain.

The bus came to a stop; moments later, small fingers found his. A smile lingered on her lips. "I thought I might find you here."

* * *

**For TheLastLynx – Prompt: "Botox has served you well."**

"Mister Malfoy! Miss Granger!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, tightening her grip around Draco's back; she would recognize the voice of Rita Skeeter anywhere, even years after the war.

The woman approached, breathless, wearing a conniving smile. "Mister Malfoy – tell me, how does it feel knowing your girlfriend was a hero in the war, when you were a Death Eater. Your family vaults have served you well."

Draco scowled, tension in his shoulders as he clenched his jaw tight.

"Rita, I see Botox has served _you _well," Hermione said with a flippant wave. The woman gaped as they walked away.


	4. A Shared Pint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: A quick drabble prompted on Tumblr by msmerlin. The prompt was: Sharing a pint during the Quidditch world cup. Unbeta'd. Hope you enjoy!

Draco drummed his fingertips on the lacquered surface of the bartop, feeling an uncharitable sneer pull at his lips. If one more drunken hoodlum slammed into his back he would –

He huffed a long breath through his nose as he found himself jostled closer to the bar, bracing himself as he fired a glare over his shoulder.

This was the _last_ time he would ever subject himself to such utter nonsense as watching the Quidditch World Cup magically projected in one of the seedy bars along Diagon. It would be box seat tickets or nothing. Blaise and Theo were out of their minds to enjoy this stifling cacophony. Draco couldn't even hear himself think.

"Fucking finally," he muttered to himself with a roll of his eyes as the overworked and inattentive barkeep slammed a heavy pint glass to the surface of the bar ahead of him, sloshing a little over the edges. He was overheated and beginning to sweat – his nose wrinkled at the thought.

Draco reached for the glass, eager to get away from the tightly packed mob waiting for beverages, but a small hand grazed his fingers and wrapped around the pint before he could reach it.

"Excuse you," Draco sneered, "that's my drink. I've already paid for it."

"Actually, _I've_ paid for it," a voice returned, and the owner spun on the spot, mouth open to continue. Chocolate eyes met his and the girl froze. "Malfoy?"

"Granger," Draco replied, frowning. It had been years since he had seen any of the golden trio – and it was just his luck to run into her now. He waved a hand at the tall, perspiring mug. "Really, it's mine."

Granger sighed, rolling her eyes. "I don't know where you drink is Malfoy, but I've been waiting here twenty minutes. Kindly, shift to the side so I can get through this infernal mass."

His jaw clenched, Draco folded his arms. He felt a slight stab of desperation as he shook his head, checking his watch. "Twenty-five. Hand it over, Granger."

"No," she hissed, eyes narrowed. Her curls were as wild as he remembered but there was something in her expression. Something more mature.

Someone slammed into Draco's back, causing him to stumble forward a little into her; the amber liquid spilled from the glass and Granger scoffed, switching hands so she could wipe the liquid from her fingers. He couldn't keep his eyes from landing on her ringless finger – he was certain he'd heard she had been engaged after the war but maybe that was no longer the case.

He felt himself bristle as someone jabbed an elbow into his spine, his nerves alight with the need to escape. He reached for the glass, clenching his fingers around the rim as he attempted to dislodge the drink from her grasp.

But she clung to it with an unnatural strength, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Quit it, Malfoy." She threw a glance over her shoulder; the barkeep was nowhere to be seen. "You're just going to have to keep waiting for yours."

"This _is_ mine," he ground out, shelving all sense of propriety.

"Look," Granger hedged, with what he could only surmise was a forced attempt at a smile. She drew her wand and waved it in the air, conjuring a second glass. Then she poured half of the pint into the fresh glass, spilling some when a drunk stumbled into her. She released a tight breath as she presented the halved drink. "Here – happy?"

Draco blinked at her, scratching the back of his neck as he accepted the offering. "Fine. Yeah, that's fine. Thanks."

"Good." She huffed, making to edge away; she brushed against him in the tightly packed mob, a flush of colour flaring in her cheeks as her eyes met his. "I hope you enjoy this Merlin-forsaken event."

"Unlikely," Draco muttered, clutching his half a pint like a lifeline. She snickered, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

He watched her walk away for a moment, a little unnerved at the entire exchange. Seeing her from the back, her curls fell a bit smoother than he recalled, and he didn't remember her having all those curves. But then she turned back, and there was something akin to consideration in her gaze; Draco swallowed thickly as her eyes locked his for a moment. He watched as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

His eyes slid to the left where Blaise and Theo sat. In a split decision, he turned right.


	5. Kittens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: A quick drabble prompted on Tumblr by mhcalamas. The prompt was: Draco buys Hermione a cat. Unbeta'd. Hope you enjoy!

She felt Draco's shoulder nudge hers and her mouth pulled into a twist. His grey eyes were wide, a heavy furrow in his brow. Hermione sighed, sinking deeper into the couch.

"You're right," she muttered, "it's time I move on. I get it. He was just…"

"I know," Draco agreed with a flippant shrug. "Crooks was family."

Her mouth pulled into a smile at his easy admission. At the way he always seemed to understand her. It was strange to think how they had spent the first eight years of knowing one another at complete odds, when given the fact of how intuitive their friendship had become, years later.

"But Granger, really," he went on, a hint of a smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth, "he was _ancient_."

"Well fine," Hermione agreed. It had been two months since Crookshanks had left her but she hadn't quite been able to shake the melancholy, and Draco had caught her on a rough day when he'd Apparated over. "I suppose he'd seen quite a few days."

"No greater life by a feline has ever been lived." Draco gave a solemn nod. His expression was hesitant as he turned to face her. "But believe it or not," he went on in a drawl, "I'm actually here for a reason today."

"Aside from irritating me?" Hermione asked with a derisive snort.

Draco released a mocking 'ha' as he rose to his feet. "Wait here."

He returned from the kitchen moments later with a large box in his arms. Hermione perked up, curiosity piqued, as she leaned forward in her seat.

Without ceremony, Draco reached into the box and deposited a small kitten in her lap. It was black and grey and blinked up at her with large blue eyes. Hermione's mouth fell open, wide eyes swinging to Draco as he handed her another kitten, this one cream and toffee coloured.

"I _know_." He shook his head. "You always tell me I'm indecisive. But _look_ at them, Hermione. There was no way I was leaving with just one."

She gaped at the fresh pair of kittens crawling across her lap, stunned.

"You bought me two –"

"Three," he interrupted, handing her a pure white kitten with grey eyes. He offered her a smirk, his grey eyes meeting hers. "But you have to name this one Draco."

"Three kittens," Hermione said, her eyes stinging as she nodded. Something pulsed in her chest as she stared at the look on his face.

"Three kittens." Draco gave an appraising nod. "You always said you wished you'd been able to get Crooks a friend but you didn't have the time growing up to look after more than one."

"Draco, I –" She shook her head, lost for words at the kindness of the gesture. She cradled the kittens to her chest, peering up at him from a mass of fur.

"Before you get _too_ soppy on me," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I also got you this."

He handed her a small box from within the pocket of his trousers, and Hermione felt a surge of trepidation before he gave a hurried gesture and she popped the lid.

Inside was a thin silver chain bracelet, featuring a small charm of an orange cat. But it had the squashed face and irritable countenance of Crooks, and Hermione released a watery laugh as she grinned at him. "It's perfect."

"So you'll always be able to keep him with you," Draco mused, absently reaching for the bracelet and releasing the clasp.

Hermione swallowed, meeting the sudden intensity of his stare. "You bought me jewellery."

"I did." There was a hard set to his jaw as he held her eyes.

For as long as they'd been friends, Draco had stubbornly refused to declare for any witch, much to his mother's chagrin. There was a heavy significance to the gifting of jewellery in the wizarding world, and Hermione felt a breath catch in her throat.

His fingers grazed the back of her hand, questioning.

She whispered, "You're serious?"

His lips pressed into a smile but Hermione could see the nervous hesitation behind the gesture. He ran a hand through his hair. "If you'll have me."

Hermione's heart raced in earnest now as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. "Suppose I'm going to need help raising three kittens, now won't I?"

He grinned, slipping the chain around her wrist. "That was the idea."


	6. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This drabble was based on a tumblr prompt by LadyKenz347: Eighth year Dramione first kiss. Hope you enjoy! Neither alpha'd nor beta'd.

Feeling something deep within her snap, Hermione spun on her heel and folded her arms, scowling. "And just _what_ is your problem?"

Her cohort lifted a pale, disdainful brow in her direction, his lips pursed. Releasing a harsh breath, Malfoy strode ahead. "You don't want the answer to that – trust me. Let's just get these rounds over with. I'm tired."

"No," Hermione scoffed, with a derisive, humourless laugh. "You don't get to parade along all night, making snide comments, and refuse to tell me what's up your arse." There was a twitch of humour on his face, but he quickly schooled it blank. "So what is it, Malfoy? You can't tell me, after everything we went through last year, you _honestly_ still believe in all that blood purity bullshite?"

Turning back to face her, Malfoy's expression was tight. Abruptly, Hermione stumbled to a stop, peering up at him; he was close enough to catch a whiff of his cologne and she faltered, shrinking away.

Finally he blew out a breath, eyes dark as they landed on hers. His words were hissed on a breath. "You are _so_ bloody self-righteous. As if you could possibly think I still believe in any of that – like you were the only one roped into something you didn't want any part of?"

Scoffing, he turned to walk away, his longer gait forcing her to keep up. Something twisted in the pit of her stomach when she caught up to him outside of an empty classroom. But before she could speak, he pulled the door shut and faced her again.

"You want the truth, Granger?" With a hint of a scowl, he stared at the wall behind her head. "My fucking problem is _you_."

"Me?" Her eyes narrowed as they met his again.

"Yes," he breathed, and something broken flashed through his stare. "You. Because you will never get down from your high fucking horse of morality to see what's so bleeding obvious in front of you –"

"What…" Hermione whispered, eyes searching his for something she couldn't quite fathom. Shaking her head, she took in the tension in his jaw, the resignation in his stare. Swallowing, she said softly, "Just tell me, Malfoy."

In the moments before he ducked in, his lips capturing hers – the racing of her heart – the way her eyes flickered to land on his mouth – Hermione didn't know what to think.

But when she sunk into his hold, lips pressed against his, hands snaking into his hair – she was no longer aware of anything but him.


	7. Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This piece was written last July (oops) and I never really intended to share it because it's sort of just trash, but here we are. The prompt was: Office Head. This one is rated M. Hope you enjoy. Neither alpha'd nor beta'd.

"Come in!" Hermione exclaimed, her expression fixed on the door as it opened and Harry poked his head inside, before pushing the door open fully and crossing the threshold. Her gaze flickered down to the paperwork on her desk and she hastily picked up a quill, ignoring the slight tremble to her grip.

"Hermione," Harry said with a sheepish grin. "Sorry to disturb you."

"Not at all, Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked, schooling a smile onto her face.

She shifted in her seat, pressing her lips together as the fingers of her other hand slid through silky locks beneath her desk.

"I just wanted to confirm the meeting between the DMLE and Magical Creatures tomorrow morning?" His expression was hopeful.

Swallowing a whimper, her hand tugging absently on the blond hair within its grasp.

"Absolutely," she affirmed, plastering a smile to her face once more. "I'll see you then!"

Harry didn't move, and his expression sagged a little. When she raised an eyebrow, he collapsed into a chair at her desk, dropping his head into his hands.

"Hermione, do you think Daph's been distant lately?" He looked up, frowning. "I just mean… she's seemed distant, and you know women better than I do and –"

"Obviously," Hermione snorted. Her hips shifted upwards, her lips parting on a subtle gasp as beneath her desk, her visitor's wicked tongue carried on, and a pair of fingers slid inside of her. "Why don't you try –" a breath caught in her throat "– asking her about it?"

"I think it's because I said I didn't think she should go shopping in Paris with Astoria, with the baby so near," Harry said, his expression bleak. "I only meant it for her safety, of course."

"Of course," Hermione choked, her legs clenching around the head beneath her desk. She could feel the amused smirk against her thigh and wished Harry would leave. "I'm sure if you just explain that, Harry."

"I suppose you're right," Harry sighed. "Look at me, wallowing."

"Totally understandable, Harry," Hermione assured him, even as she felt her legs shaking. Harry was absolutely _killing_ this for her. "Tomorrow morning then, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, rising from the seat. "See you then, Hermione. And thanks."

"Anytime," she gasped, sliding down in her seat, her fingers gripping the back of his platinum hair as his sinful tongue worked her over, his fingers positively _teasing_ her with a slow rhythm.

She let out a shuddering groan as Harry closed the door behind him, her head falling back against her seat, her free hand gripping the arm of her chair, white-knuckled.

"Oh, and Hermione?" Harry was back, peering through the door again.

Her face snapped forward again, eyes wide. "Yes?" she breathed.

"You haven't seen Malfoy, have you? I've been meaning to talk to him about the DMLE's budget for the upcoming quarter."

"Haven't – seen him." Her grip tightened again in the blond's hair, and if Harry didn't leave right _bloody now_ –

"Alright, well if you do."

"Mmh," Hermione said in a sort of whimper, clenching her core tight, one of her heels sliding up along his back.

With a smile and a nod, Harry closed the door again.

Her head fell back again; a cry tore from her throat as he pushed her over the edge, his tongue lapping at her fluids, and as Hermione's blurred vision refocused, she felt his low chuckle vibrating against her flesh.

Chest heaving, she pushed her chair back, and Draco crawled out from beneath her desk, wiping delicately at his mouth with his tie. His eyes met hers as he stood and he smirked.

"Delectable as ever this morning," he growled, tugging her to her feet by her collar, and Hermione adjusted her skirt. When he pressed his lips to hers in a searing kiss, Hermione groaned at the taste of herself on his lips and tongue.

"Harry's looking for you," she mumbled against his lips as he pulled away.

"So I've heard." A smirk, and his hand grazed down her back to squeeze her arse.

Kissing him again, she rubbed herself against the hard arousal she could feel through his trousers.

He groaned, his fingers catching her hips, even as he tugged her onto the desk against him.

"I've got to go," he murmured, with a bite to her earlobe. "My office – two o'clock?"

"I'll be there," she muttered, tugging him in by his tie for another kiss, her other hand carding through his silken hair.

"Perfect." With a wink, he slung his jacket on, fixing the buttons in place.

His hair was wickedly disheveled and Hermione smiled as he left her office, closing the door behind him.


	8. Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This was a Tumblr drabble written back in March and prompted by QuinTalon with the prompt: Draco walks in on Hermione dancing around the room and joins her. Bonus points if you can work in a forehead kiss. I hope you enjoy!

Leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest, Draco lifted a pale brow. He surveyed the scene before him in the Heads' common room, blowing out a long breath, before clenching his jaw.

His dormmate, cohort, and the Head Girl, Hermione Granger, was engaged in some sort of _activity_ that he refused to refer to as dancing. Draco knew how to dance—he was thoroughly trained and capable in performing a proper waltz, the foxtrot, the _salsa_—what Granger was doing was not dancing.

She was… _rhythmically flailing_.

And whatever sort of musical ruckus she had on was emanating as if from the walls, disrupting his studies even through the walls into the Head Boy's room.

Rolling his eyes, he less than subtly cleared his throat, fighting the tug of humour at his lips to see her completely let loose—when she realised he was there, surely she would cease what now looked to be a futile exercise in chasing off vermin.

The last Draco had heard, Granger was studying for their NEWTs the following week in the common room. So at some point between the time he had retreated to his room two hours earlier, until now, she had devolved to _this_.

He cleared his throat again, louder.

Granger froze, her back to him, and her hands awkwardly held out before. As if in slow motion, she spun on the spot, her eyes wide as they locked onto his. It was so cliched it was comedic.

Merlin, he couldn't help the chuckle. Despite their tumultuous history, the girl had grown on him since they returned to Hogwarts for their eighth year. And he couldn't exactly place the air that had existed between them for the last few months. It felt as if they'd been dancing around one another, and if he was honest, he'd enjoyed it.

A dull hint of colour darkened her cheeks, already flushed from the physical exertion of whatever she had been doing moments prior. A slow, uncomfortable grin spread across her face and she waved a hand, dropping the volume of her music; as she swept a few curls out of her face she announced, "I needed a study break."

Pushing off from the wall, Draco took a few steps into the common room. "I can see that." Offering her a smirk, he added, "Whatever helps you relax, I suppose."

As her embarrassment seeped away with the straightening of her shoulders, she offered a hand, lips quirking. Quietly, she breathed, "Join me."

"No," he clipped, snickering. "You carry on, though. I don't mean to dislocate anything today."

Granger scoffed, but didn't drop her hand. "It'll do you some good to lighten up a bit. I could snap you in half over my knee."

"You could not," he retorted, "especially not if—"

"_Malfoy_."

Clamping his jaw shut, he only stared at her, slowly shaking his head. As she held his stare, she lifted a hand, the music rising again, and she gave a little shake to the music, a self-deprecating look on her face.

Despite himself, his own grin tugged at his lips; sweeping his hair back, he muttered, "You're barmy."

But her fingers twisted around his wrist, dragging him fully into the common room, and commencing once more with her erratic movements. To his own chagrin, he found himself moving along a bit to the music, even as he fixed her with a stern look.

"I mean, fine, Granger," he said, pursing his lips, "but if you want to _actually_ dance—" With a wave of his own hand the music shifted into something a little less chaotic—something a bit softer. He adjusted her grip on his arm, interlocking their fingers.

He caught a hint of a sparkle in her chocolate eyes as he led her into a different dance, drawing her closer.

In hindsight, perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to pull her into a slow dance. As her other arm snaked around his back, and as she tucked closer into his chest, Draco was left wondering if she could hear the feral racing of his heart.

The feel of her in his arms was more than he'd realised.

But she released a soft, quiet exhalation, and sunk further into his hold, her eyelids fluttering shut. Gently, he brushed his lips against her temple, feeling his smile grow.


	9. Twisted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This was a Tumblr drabble from March, prompted by Grif-sly with the prompt: Hermione and Draco play Twister. Things get embarrassing and awkward fast. I hope you enjoy!

Most of the eighth years were drunk. It was the most predominant thought resounding in Hermione's mind as she looked around the eighth year common room. In fact, she was one of the only ones who remained sober—or at least an approximation of it.

Their NEWTs were complete at last—and the only thing that remained was for their final grades to be awarded, and they would venture into the world at last. It was almost surreal, when given the fact that a little over a year ago, they'd all come out of a war.

A lot had changed.

As she looked around the room, all four houses represented and enjoying themselves, a smile came to her face. For all the pain and hardship the war had caused, so many things had come out of the struggle to rebuild.

"Granger!" Malfoy said, waving a box in front of her. "Let's play this."

Taking the box and rotating it, Hermione nearly snorted. It was Twister. "_This_ is a bad idea. Pick another one."

One of the other eighth year Muggle-borns had come up with the idea of having a games night, and procured a whole swath of Muggle games. Most of which the students had created drinking varieties with both alarming and impressive haste.

Malfoy peered closer at the packaging. "We've played most of the others already. I can only play so many rounds of Yahtzee, as it turns out."

She met his stare for a moment; he didn't seem drunk like the rest, and she wondered if that was why he had sought her out, considering a large group across the room had broken into a rowdy chorus.

"Fine," she conceded at last, already feeling colour sting her cheeks at the look Malfoy was giving her. "We'll play one round. But I don't think you'll enjoy it."

Clicking his tongue, he wasted no time in laying out the large plastic mat covered in large colourful spots in a remote corner of the room. Hours earlier, Malfoy had proven his disinterest in reading the rules, and Hermione wasn't surprised when he approached the mat, folding his arms. "What do we do?"

"You just…" Waving a hand towards the spinner, she grimaced. "Do what it tells you."

Skeptical, Malfoy flicked the spinner with his pointer finger. "Left foot green." When she gestured towards the mat, he frowned, but followed the directive. When Hermione placed her right foot on a red circle, he rolled his eyes. "This is boring."

But when the next spin commanded he place his left hand on a blue space, bringing his face well into Hermione's personal space, his eyes widened.

Within a few more spins, Hermione found her face nearly pressed into Malfoy's chest, her arms tangled around his thighs, and his temple against the inside of her knee.

Her voice was muffled against his shirt as she muttered, "Are you still sure you want to play this?" She could feel his firm muscle through the fabric, and her face flared with warmth.

Malfoy's arm grazed her breasts as he reconfigured himself with a muttered, "Apologies," before he flashed her a grin. "Don't tell me you aren't enjoying this."

The only mercy of the situation was that no one else was paying them any mind from across the room—although the thought did little to reassure her as Malfoy's grey eyes met hers, his lips twitching with humour as she made her next move and her arse nearly wound up in his lap.

The problem was she was enjoying it a little _too_ much, if the tightness in her core was any indication. There was certainly no denying Malfoy was attractive, and many of the walls between them had crumbled during the last year since the war.

The warmth of his breath was enticing on her skin, and he swung his left leg free over top of her, and nearly pressed one side of her flat into the mat. Glancing away, Hermione attempted to steady her breathing as Malfoy's face landed on her throat.

Her fingers just barely clung to their circle, and with his last precarious movement, she lost her balance, tumbling to the floor, and dragging him down with her. The pair of them landed in a tangled heap, Malfoy on top of her, and her body flared to life at the feel of him pressing her into the mat.

He stared down at her for a long moment, eyes seeking hers, before his lips drifted up into a slow smirk. Quietly, he murmured, "If you wanted me on top of you, Granger, you only needed to ask."

The ire in her scowl was half-hearted. "_You_ wanted to play this infernal game."

Malfoy was still on top of her, and one of his hands grazed her side. A breath caught in her throat at the contact. "Yes I did," he breathed, nuzzling the side of her face; his mouth brushed her jaw.

Forcing a thick swallow, Hermione threaded her fingers through the fine strands of his hair. "Maybe we ought to play again."

Drawing away, he gazed down at her, a heat in his stare and a smirk curling his lips. "Granger," he mused, "that is the best damn idea you've ever had."

She couldn't help her own grin.


End file.
